


Disturb the Peace

by inkstainedmeg



Category: Glee
Genre: Hogwarts AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-22 01:57:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/907525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkstainedmeg/pseuds/inkstainedmeg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Sebastian Smythe. My dad’s the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry.”</p><p>Kurt had never heard about the Ministry, except in books. But he knew the title was prestigious. He shook Sebastian’s hand, though he was a little surprised that it wasn’t as slimy and slick as the boy’s dark brown hair looked. He could tell that this boy was not to be trusted.</p><p>“Kurt Hummel,” he replied, pulling his hand back at the appropriate amount of time for a polite handshake. “I don’t like you.”</p><p>Apparently today was the day for honesty on all sides.</p><p>“Fun. I don’t like you either. You’re probably a Hufflepuff, anyway.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

“If there’s one house we’ll want to avoid, it’s Slytherin. Those guys are really mean, and Cooper said that almost all of the bad guys are in Slytherin.” The other boy shook his head, and Kurt looked at him curiously. Blaine’s parents were both magical and he knew more about Hogwarts than Kurt did. 

There was a loud screech of the train’s whistle, and he could hear the sounds of students out in the hallway. He paid them no mind. The boys had managed to find a compartment all to themselves, so the noise was muffled from where they were sitting on comfy red cushions.

"Mom always said that Slytherins were misunderstood," he said, trying to think back to when his mom had told him about Hogwarts. Elizabeth had been a Ravenclaw, but Kurt had never really understood the friction between the houses. She had never talked about it, and the first time he’d ever heard about it had been back when Blaine’s older brother Cooper went to school and came home ranting about “crazy Slytherins” and “annoying Hufflepuffs”. Cooper was in Gryffindor. Kurt frowned.

"Well, I mean... no one knows where they'll be sorted until the sorting," Blaine said hesitantly. Kurt thought back to the platform. His dad had seen him off, still dressed in the work shirt with the name on the pocket, waving from the very edge of the platform for as long as possible. Kurt loved his dad, loved that it was the two of them against the world. He wanted to make his dad proud of him, wherever he was sorted. 

Kurt almost hadn’t been allowed to go to Hogwarts. After his mom had died when he was eight, Burt had been determined to keep Kurt close and safe and away from the war that had claimed his mother’s life. They’d moved houses, his dad had tried to make their lives as normal (as muggle) as possible. But Kurt wasn’t normal, and after the letter had come and Kurt had accidentally sent the fireplace up in flames with excitement (luckily it had been empty, and not used as storage like it usually was), he’d realized that Kurt belonged at the school. Burt didn’t have to like the idea to know that, and Kurt just wanted to prove that he would be okay, that he could be a good wizard to make his dad feel better about letting him go to the school so far away from home. 

“Has anyone seen a cat? Some blond girl lost one.”

Kurt looked up to see a boy standing in the doorway of their compartment, his posture relaxed and calm. He was tall and gangly, but his uniform fit him well and Kurt noticed that it was properly tailored, unlike most of the students in the corridor. He had big green eyes, and Kurt was momentarily distracted by them. They took up most of his face, and they were quite beautiful. His face was longer than it was wide, almost pointed at the chin, and he wasn’t really attractive in a “model” kind of way, but his face had a kind of old hollywood charm, Kurt supposed. If he noticed those kinds of things, of course.

“We haven’t seen one,” Blaine said, snapping Kurt out of his reverie. A dark haired girl came up behind the boy, peered into the room dismissively, and then turned to the boy in the doorway.

“Brittany found him, we can stop looking,” she said. The boy shrugged and turned back to the other two. The girl walked away.

Kurt arched an eyebrow at the boy in the doorway. Blaine was engrossed in the package of Bertie Bott’s that he’d found in his bag, but Kurt had already read all of his textbooks and reading them for a fifth time was bordering on obsessive behavior, so instead he looked toward the intruder.

“I’m Kurt,” he said finally, the boy having stayed silent and just watching them. “This is Blaine.” He looked at the boy expectantly. “And you are…?”

The boy looked startled, as if he’d expected them all to already know who he was. His shoulders pushed back and he stood up a bit straighter, looking a bit like a puffed up peacock. Kurt had met a few people like that, but most of them had been older and worked with Blaine’s dad or were new customers at Hummel Tires – it was weird to see the expression on someone their age. Sebastian stuck out a hand.

“Sebastian Smythe. My dad’s the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry.”

Kurt had never heard about the Ministry, except in books. But he knew the title was prestigious. He shook Sebastian’s hand, though he was a little surprised that it wasn’t as slimy and slick as the boy’s dark brown hair looked. He could tell that this boy was not to be trusted.

“Kurt Hummel,” he replied, pulling his hand back at the appropriate amount of time for a polite handshake. “I don’t like you.”

Apparently today was the day for honesty on all sides.

“Fun. I don’t like you either. You’re probably a Hufflepuff, anyway.”

With that, he turned and left.

\----

Kurt wasn’t really sure what to make of the castle. It came into view as soon as their little boats turned the corner, and the sight of it was more vast and sprawling than any of his mother’s stories had been able to convey. The towers glittered against the night sky, and his eyes felt like they might pop out of his head from trying to see everything at once. The water sparkled in the moonlight, and Kurt turned to see Blaine having the same kind of reaction – they were both staring in amazement. The castle was dazzling, and Kurt felt like it was very possibly the best thing he’d ever seen.

The boats docked, and Kurt was a little squished between a bulky boy who seemed even more nervous than he was and the short figure that was Blaine. He didn’t mind this, and he tried to smile comfortingly at the sweaty boy; it didn’t seem to help much. They were all nervous as they climbed the stairs and waited in the deserted hallway; the ceiling loomed over them, and Kurt felt overwhelmed with nerves. The first years scuttled in close to one another, a blanket nervous anticipation covering them. They were ushered into a smaller room, some of them breaking off into small groups, and Kurt grabbed Blaine’s hand and the hand of the nervous-looking boy beside him, pulling all three to the side.

Blaine was bouncing on his toes, and Kurt managed a tiny smile. Blaine just looked so excited, and even though Kurt’s stomach was doing some kind of jazz dance, he felt relaxed knowing that Blaine was his usual energized self. Kurt could always count on Blaine. The nervous boy watched them both, managing a shaky smile when Kurt looked at him. They squeezed each other’s hands for support as a tall woman with a pointed hat approached them.

“Gather round, please,” she said, her voice brisk but somehow kindly. “Welcome to Hogwarts. Before you can take a seat with your fellow students, we must first sort you into your houses. They are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. While you are here, your house will be like your family. Your successes will earn your house points; any rule breaking, and you will lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will be awarded the House cup. You will spend all your seven years with your house, so mind your actions.” She paused, surveying the anxious students with a careful eye.

“Follow me.”

Kurt held his breath as the wide doors of the Great Hall opened to the first years, granting many of them their first glimpse into what magic could really do. The Hall was aptly named: there were four long tables lined with more students than he could count, and there were candlesticks everywhere, floating in the air above their heads and over the tables, lighting the room with a flickering glow. At the front of the room which felt so very far away, there were a line of adults who had to be teachers of some sort. He felt the magic and warmth in the air, and it reminded him of the tingle that he’d felt whenever his mother had done magic at home.

They gathered around the front of the hall, whispering among themselves about the sorting. Would it be hard? Would it be like a test? Would they be embarrassed? Kurt fidgeted, though when he looked around through the other students he managed to find “Sebastian Smythe”. Who was smirking at him like he knew something that Kurt didn’t. Smarmy bastard.


	2. Chapter 1

 

 

> _“...When using the vanishing charm (‘Evanesco’) on living creatures, it is important to remember that they do not vanish into non-being completely. Should the witch or wizard cast the spell incorrectly, the parts of the creature remaining behind are somehow still attached to the creature, wherever the rest of it may be. Because vanishing spells and splinching (“Apparition”, pg 149) are similar in that they do not harm living creatures, it is possible that the creature is merely in a different plane of existence, and the magic to return them to ours is a matter of apparition, and not transfiguration at all.”_

 

The light in his bedroom was fading. The lamp on the desk was dimmer than usual, the flickering glow casting shadows along the tabletop, and Kurt frowned at it over the pages of his Transfiguration essay. There were open books littering the table, some turned to pages at whim and some very carefully, full of information he already knew. This time, the delicate pages were discussing the properties and consequences of wand movements he'd never heard of.

 

Kurt was trying to do an extra-credit essay for Professor McGonagall before the term started. He wanted to get into the subject matter and make sure that he would have the proper number of credits to take an extra class this year before the strain of O.W.L.'s brought him down and he dropped three electives because of stress. Kurt was constantly aspiring to get ahead of his classmates, and it was part of the ambition that he prided himself on - he wanted to be a fashion designer someday, but knowledge was power and he definitely enjoyed being more powerful than his classmates.

 

He sighed, reaching over and flicking the switch on the wall and bathing the room in light from the ceiling. It was probably better for his eyes this way. Kurt ran a hand over his face. There was a smudge of ink on his right hand from where he'd been writing his essay, and he reached for a tissue to wipe at it. Kurt hated what ink did to his skin, but if he was going to get ahead in life and avoid the bullying that he had to put up with when he was at home, well...it would be worth it in the long run.

 

Most of his home life was good anyway, but the neighborhood kids were not very fond of the strange boarding school boy who came home every year with a bigger and bigger trunk and a very loud, obnoxious cat in tow.

 

He peered over at the door, hoping (too late) that he’d remembered to close it so that the light didn’t spill into the hallway. It was cracked, and there was a sliver of light that shone out, but Kurt was okay with that. Hopefully no one was awake at....three am, he realized.

 

He’d been working on this essay for three and a half hours now, ever since he’d put away his potions book and decided to get ahead on a more interestingtopic. He’d owled his head of house early in the summer, and Professor Nott had sent him the outlines for the O.W.L. examinations - the study guides they’d be using this year, at least. Kurt wanted to be prepared.

 

Kurt put down the quill in his hand and frowned. He really needed to go to bed if he was going to get up at eight to make breakfast for everyone, and he knew that if he slept too late his dad would reprimand him about staying up too late again. He couldn’t really help it.

 

“There’s something about creative genius in the night, isn’t there?” he mumbled. “Now if only my creative genius would work out a schedule where I could get enough beauty sleep.”

 

He stood and walked over to the open window, breathing in the fresh night air. He had planned to go only work on his essay a little bit, but he’d hit his stride somewhere around 1 AM. He’d probably take a nap tomorrow to make up the sleep.

 

Mercedes, his small cocoa-brown cat, eyed him warily from where she was curled up on the edge of his bed as if to threaten the very idea that he’d want to share space with her, but Kurt reached out a hand to stroke her ears soothingly. “Time for bed,” he said, stretching his arms over his head and yawning. Yes, his essay would be just fine waiting until morning. He was still ahead.  

 

\--

 

When Kurt’s alarm went off at 8:15 AM, Kurt was feeling considerably better for the bit of sleep he’d gotten. It was nice to be home and in his own bed; the detergent just wasn’t the same at Hogwarts, and the mattress was far bigger here, and far more comfortable despite all of the cushioning charms he’d tried at school. He had missed the small comforts of home.

 

He went through his morning routine on autopilot while his brain woke up, washing his face carefully and styling his hair flawlessly and assembling a fashionable outfit. He was the only one awake, it seemed, and Kurt smiled to himself. There was peacefulness this early in the morning that Kurt savored.

 

He hummed as he gathered up the eggs and butter substitute and other ingredients he’d need, setting them on the counter near the stove. He supposed that it was time he tested out some of those low-fat recipes for French toast that he’d found on the internet - his dad had been working too hard lately, and though Kurt insisted on making sure that Burt ate healthy, his dad deserved a break.

 

" _For the army we fight is a dangerous foe..._ ” he sang as he cracked an egg into the bowl.

 

“ _With the men and the arms that we never can match._ ” Another egg, and a stroke of the whisk.

 

“ _Oh, it's easy to sit here and swat 'em like flies.._.”

 

There was a loud crash from upstairs. Kurt practically jumped out of his skin, head spinning around to look at the door with a terror flooding his veins before he reminded himself that he was safe, reminding himself to take deep breaths and calm down slowly.

 

Finn stumbled down the stairs and practically fell into the kitchen with all the grace of a hippo. Kurt bit back a laugh at how disheveled and eager his stepbrother looked.

 

“Dude. What are you making?” Finn asked, peering over Kurt’s shoulder like he was afraid Kurt might hit him with a spatula if he got too close.

 

Finn was the stereotypical rugby player- he was tall and broad-shouldered, and he often had a confused look on his face. He was a little slow on the uptake most of the time, but usually his heart was in the right place. Kurt didn’t really spend much time with Finn. Everything lately had either revolved around saving money or studying.

 

“Breakfast,” Kurt replied. “I’m making enough for you and Dad and Carole.” He didn’t look away from the stove. “Are you going to practice today, or something?” Finn normally wasn’t awake until closer to noon on the weekends.

 

“Nah,” Finn responded, grabbing some bacon off of the plate where it had been cooling. “I was going to go see if Puck wanted to have a game day.” He scratched the back of his neck. “If you wanted, you could come play too? I don’t think Grand Theft Auto is your thing, but I mean...”

 

Kurt cut him off. “I was going to spend the day at Blaine’s, but thank you for the invitation,” he said. Puck had gotten better over the years about bullying Kurt, but he was still too rowdy and unpredictable for Kurt’s tastes.

 

Finn mumbled something around his mouthful of bacon. Kurt sighed, raising his eyebrows and giving his stepbrother a disbelieving look. Finn swallowed his food and tried again.

 

“That’s cool. Uh...Blaine can come too, if you want?” he tried.

 

Kurt nodded. “Thank you for the offer, but we made plans already to go to the mall.”

 

It was a lie, but if Finn had it in his head that they needed some kind of brother-bonding time, Kurt had to think fast. Brother-bonding time usually meant watching Finn do something idiotic, or worse - trying to get Kurt to do something idiotic with him - and Kurt just wasn’t in the mood for that today.

 

“I’ll make some cookies for you to bring Noah in my absence,” he amended.

 

Finn’s expression perked right up. “You’re the best! Puck always loses when he gets baked stuff from you.”

 

Kurt smiled. Finn might have been a muggle, but he was pretty sure his stepbrother would’ve fit right in with the overeager Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs who Kurt went to school with. It was endearing.

 

The French toast had barely touched the plates Kurt had set aside when the front door opened and the sound of work boots crashed through the hallway. “Anyone up?” a voice called.

 

“In here, Dad!” Kurt moved the plate to the table. He knew better than to get in between Finn and his dad and whatever food was available. Burt Hummel entered the kitchen with a smile on his face, though the sight of him made Kurt blanche.

 

“You’ve got oil all over, didn’t you wash before leaving the garage?” he asked, herding his father toward the sink. “No French toast until you’re clean!” Burt raised a brow and chuckled.

 

“They’re doing construction on the pipes,” he said. “No water for the rest of the weekend at the garage. I forgot that they were starting today.” He reached to turn on the water with his arm. “What are you boys up to today?”

 

Finn swallowed his food a little too fast in his haste to speak, and ended up coughing harshly before he could manage words. “Gonna see if Puck wants to play Call of Duty 4,” he said excitedly. Burt nodded, and Kurt stifled a laugh at Finn’s expression and the way he wiggled in his seat, like he couldn’t choose between his friend or the food in front of him.

 

“I was going to spend the day with Blaine,” Kurt said. “If that’s okay?” Burt stifled a laugh of his own.

 

“You spend every spare moment with Blaine,” he commented. “As long as Blaine’s mom and dad are okay with it, I guess. I don’t want them thinking that you’re neglected or anything.”

 

Kurt grinned: Blaine lived just down the street. Kurt didn’t really spend all his time there. It was just strange to be surrounded by magic for nine months of the year and then have none. Kurt supposed that he was lucky they lived in a mixed community. He couldn’t imagine what it would have been like to be entirely cut off from magic for the summer months.

 

He put a few pieces of bacon alongside some eggs and French toast, and set them in the fridge for when his stepmother got home. Carole would appreciate the food when she got off the early morning shift at the hospital, and Kurt always felt like he should do a little extra considering how hard she worked.

 

\--

 

Today was promised to Blaine. Kurt had been working with his dad at the garage for most of the summer, but it was his day off; the friends had agreed that at their next chance to, there would be a small quidditch match at Blaine’s. Kurt wasn’t big on sports, but flying was exhilarating, and he looked forward to having that touch of magic he missed while home from school.

 

They weren’t allowed to do magic outside of Hogwarts, but Mr. Anderson had charmed the brooms to stay in their yard, and the yard was really much bigger than it appeared. He would take any magic he could get his hands on.

 

Kurt may not have spent all of his spare time at Blaine’s, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to. Blaine lived at the end of the block in a normal muggle house with a well-manicured front yard. There was a car in the driveway that Mrs. Anderson used when she wanted to do local errands - Kurt knew she had a weakness for muggle cereals - and no one would think twice about the mailbox at the end of the front walk that was perpetually empty. The Andersons were well-respected in the neighborhood. There were never any noise complaints or stray pets. The Anderson boys went to a very nice, very dapper boarding school far away...and that was all the neighbors knew.

 

He smiled to himself as he walked down the sidewalk. The sun was a bit too bright and he felt like he had become nocturnal with how sensitive his eyes felt, despite his designer sunglasses. Regardless, today was shaping up to be a good day.

 

It was understandable, with the blinding sunlight, that Kurt didn’t see the large barn owl flying toward him. The envelope it dropped on his head scared him half to death, and Kurt looked around frantically for a moment before realizing what had happened. He sighed.

 

“I’m sorry I don’t have any treats for you,” he apologized to the owl. “I promise I’ll give you some when term starts, okay?”

 

The owl looked at him with an exceptional amount of disgust - Kurt didn’t know animals could have that much emotion in just one look - before spreading its large wings and taking off.

 

Kurt turned the envelope over in his hands, curious as to who might be sending him mail. The owl had definitely been a school owl, but it felt like it was far too soon for the book list. He supposed it was possible that he had lost track of time over the summer, and it really was time after all. Confirming that the address was indeed for him from Hogwarts, Kurt tucked the envelope into his messenger bag and walked a little faster toward Blaine’s house. It was probably just the school list, so he didn’t think much of it. Maybe they’d go to Diagon Alley today and pick up their supplies together.

 

Kurt pushed the front door open and stepped into the front hall, closing the door behind him with a soft click. A smile curved his lips as he made his way up the stairs toward Blaine’s room, where the melody of some sugary-pop song drifted through the open door. He leaned against the empty frame for a moment, taking in the sight of the room - everything seemed neat and in its place, except for the CD cases littering the floor and a various array of discs spread haphazardly near the player.

 

And then there was Blaine, dancing on top of his bed like he was on a go-go platform, shaking his hips and twirling around before he spotted Kurt in the doorway and immediately grinned brightly, twirling around on the bed and doing a little shimmy.

 

“Kurt!” he yelped, hopping down (or falling, Kurt couldn’t be sure) and scrambling to right himself before jumping at his friend and wrapping the other boy in a tight hug. “I missed you! I didn’t think I’d see you today!”

 

“You just saw me yesterday, Blaine,” Kurt reminded him.

 

“But yesterday, you said your dad was keeping you all weekend,” Blaine replied petulantly. He couldn’t maintain the look though, and his expression brightened again.

 

Kurt huffed a soft laugh. Blaine was always excited or eager or hyper. Kurt was used to the endless energy and the rapidly changing expressions. In a lot of ways, Blaine reminded him of a puppy. He just smiled.

 

“Dad decided to let me off work today. I nearly got run down by an owl on my way here, so I was wondering if you’d gotten yours?”

 

Blaine’s smile faltered. “I don’t know. Mom let me sleep in so I missed the post this morning. We can go check though,” he said, his shoulders falling slightly. “We have O.W.L.s this year, don’t we? I don’t even want to know what kinds of extra books we’re going to be assigned. Cooper had a whole mountain when Mom took him shopping for fifth year.”

 

Kurt nodded. “I convinced Professor McGonagall to let me get a little ahead in Transfiguration, but I’m sure there’ll be a ton more books to get,” he said, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. There was just something about the smell of new books, the smell of fresh ink and parchment that Kurt loved, but he knew that Blaine would rather be out on the Quidditch pitch than stranded doing homework. Kurt had dragged him (quite literally, first year) to the library enough times to know better by now. Blaine’s expression was just as despondent now as it had been when he realized that they’d have to get new books every year back in second year.

 

(Kurt had a very vivid memory of Blaine realizing this, and an exasperated “I thought Coop was just trying to scare me!”)

 

Blaine sighed.

 

“Should we open them?” he asked finally, raising a brow at Blaine. It was dumb to just sit there and look at them. They might as well know what to expect. Kurt would like to be able to go home with a plan for the year, if possible. It was the best way to get ahead, after all.

 

Blaine nodded slowly. “On three?” he asked; Kurt couldn’t say no to Blaine’s impish, tiny smile and big eyes. He nodded his agreement and pushed his finger under the letter’s edge, the paper tearing with a quiet rip. Parchment fell out of the envelope, and there was a soft metallic thump against the table as Kurt picked up the paper on top.

 

> _Dear Mr. Hummel,_
> 
> _We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected to serve as Prefect for Slytherin house. Your school record shows that you have exemplified the ambition, cunning, and resourcefulness which set Slytherins apart._
> 
> _Prefectship indicates greatness, and as such two students each year are honored with the position. As prefects, you and your house partner will be expected to patrol the corridors on your scheduled nights. As well, you will have the right and responsibility to detract points for rulebreaking within your own house. As further reward, Prefects are permitted to share the Prefect bathroom on the fifth floor. Give Boris the Bewildered the password, and you shall gain entrance._
> 
> _You will share Slytherin Prefectship with Sebastian Smythe._
> 
> _We are certain that you will continue to be an example for your housemates and take this responsibility seriously. Enclosed, please find your prefect badge, which should be worn at all times. There will be a meeting for all prefects on the train to explain further instruction and answer any questions you may have._
> 
> _Congratulations._
> 
> _Sincerely,_
> 
> _Professor Slughorn_
> 
> _P.S. - some information you might find useful ~_
> 
> _Rachel Berry and Samuel Evans, Gryffindor Prefects_
> 
> _Blaine Anderson and Brittany Pierce, Hufflepuff Prefects_
> 
> _Quinn Fabray and Tina Cohen-Chang, Ravenclaw Prefects_
> 
> _Anticipating your prefectship highly,_
> 
> _Horace_

 

Kurt frowned. “Isn’t it strange to have same-gender prefects?” he asked Blaine, looking up to see the other boy twirling a badge between his fingers. Blaine shrugged.

 

“I think it happens now and then?” he said. “Professor Binns said something about prefects having to be even in numbers, gender wise...I don’t remember what he said about it though.”

 

Kurt looked the letter over again, scanning the bottom more closely.

 

“Rachel Berry’s a Gryffindor prefect,” he said. “Well. That’s going to be a nightmare.”

 

Blaine laughed. “I’m sure she won’t be that bad. How do you know? Mine doesn’t say.”

 

“Slughorn wrote me a note. I think he’s trying to win me over again - hopefully he doesn’t invite me to that awful dinner party again this year. That was so boring. I had to sit through the most pretentious Gryffindors; even Sam Evans couldn’t make me want to go again this year...”

 

“I remember,” Blaine reminded him. “You whined about it for a week. I’m still not sure why you went in the first place.”

 

“He was persuasive. And Sam has very pretty eyes,” Kurt muttered. Blaine laughed.

 

“Yes, he does. So does your boyfriend. Remember him? Ravenclaw, tall, muscular? ‘Eyes to get lost in’, I think you called them. You’ve barely talked about him all summer. Did something happen?”

 

Kurt sighed, his shoulders slouching. He wished that there was something to tell, but he’d already analysed everything to pieces. Blaine would tell him that he was overreacting, but how else was he supposed to act? He’d sent at least five letters, and he’d heard nothing back all summer.

 

“Maybe his mom found them?” Blaine murmured. Apparently Kurt had spoken his thoughts.

 

“Maybe,” he agreed. But wouldn’t Dave have sent something else? At least something to show that he was okay?  He shook his head. He didn’t want to worry as much as he was, but he couldn’t help it. Blaine shifted, and put a hand on Kurt’s arm.

 

“I’m sure he’s fine. I think it would’ve made the news if anything happened, and I read the Prophet. Dad would’ve said something, at least.” A pause. “Kurt, you need to relax. I’m sure he’s fine.”

 

Kurt huffed. “But what could he possibly be doing that he hasn’t written back? He promised. We promised to write and floo and I even told him how to use the computer so that we can skype but he hasn’t, I-”

 

“Kurt. Stop. You’re going to get grey hair. You’ll see him on the first and that’s really all you can do. You know how strict his parents are.” Kurt gave Blaine a look that could melt a glacier, before relaxing subtly. Blaine was right, there was nothing that he could do - no matter how much Kurt didn’t want to hear it.

 

“I just have a bad feeling about this,” he murmured.

 

Kurt jolted suddenly, a hand reaching for his hair. “Blaine Anderson, I am not going grey,” he said sharpy. Blaine grinned and grabbed his hand.

 

“C’mon. Let’s go out to the treehouse. Cooper restocked it when he was here last weekend, and we haven’t been out there in a while. I bet there’s chocolate in the ice box still.”

 

\--

 

Kurt crossed his legs on the floor, grinning at the box of old toys. “I can’t believe we never come up here anymore. Such great stuff,” he said, pulling out a toy broom. “You sure that we’re too big for this? You might still be able to fly it.”

 

Blaine scrunched up his face in response. “I’m full grown, thank you very much. I am not an elf. Or a hobbit, as the muggles like to think I am.”

 

Kurt laughed. Finn in particular had started calling Blaine that years ago, and it had just seemed to stick. “I dunno. You could be...hey! We still have licorice wands in here.” He tugged out an unopened package with amazement. “I’m not sure I even want to know how long they’ve been in there, though.”

 

Blaine snatched the bag back, opening it and pulling out a wand. He bit into it and let out a pleased little hum.

 

There was something about the Andersons’ house that made Kurt feel warm and welcome, as if it were another home, and the old treehouse was the same way. He shrugged off Blaine’s theft, reaching for a wand himself before digging through the box again. There were the few old toy brooms, as well as some cards, a box of Exploding Snap, a few stray Gobstones and a few tiny ice mice who looked as if they’d seen better days. Kurt even spotted a stray Black Knight piece walking around the bottom of the box.

 

“Since we’re prefects now, does that mean we’re going to have to respect the teachers better? Because I still think Professor Shue’s lessons are completely pointless,” Blaine asked, talking around the licorice in his mouth. “I mean, I know he thinks muggle studies are important, but he barely knows what electricity is.”

  
Kurt snorted. “Probably, yes. And we have to make sure that the others all follow the rules, too. No rebellious uprisings, no matter how out of touch the teachers may be.”


End file.
